Yesterday, Tony and I did something WILD and CRAZY. If you know me and Tony, ummmm, we're the antedote for WILD and CRAZY. Really. If I were to sit and rack my brain for anything WILD and CRAZY I've ever done, I'd honestly get so depressed at my squareness, I'd have to go read just to calm down. Or play Poke FUCKING mon.
We got a sitter to sit with our kids, and he went to play in a golf tournament, and I went to hang out with a friend. We met up later, and our hormones kind of took over. Kinda like absence makes the heart grow fonder, but in my case... absences makes the 'giner grow... well... I think you get where I am going here.
We were at our friends house for oh ten minutes before we were in the backyard and making out. Yeah like some horny teenagers. You know what? Scratch that. Teenagers don't own the market on horniness. We were horny like some mutha truckin' 30 year olds. Take that teenagers. *angy old woman shaky fist*
The unfortunate thing is, our MIL was the one watching the kids and the last time we did the hibbidy dibbidy while she was here... she brought it up the next day. Now, don't get me wrong, she's heard us do it several times when we WERE horny teenagers, but you know, when you're a teenager having a threesome with two dudes and then telling people about it sounds like a good idea too. (Hey! I have done a wild and crazy thing! Chaching!) Now that I'm borderline crotchety, I have like humility and shit.
As we're making out, and bemoaning our sexless lives with Tony's work and my all round bitchiness, I said "Hey, let's get a hotel room". Tony's eyes lit up like Christmas tree and we were off. We hurriedly said goodby to our friends, giggling telling them what we were doing. We were met with some scorn, and some "Aww come on guys" but, we were determined to get a hotel room, tear the clothes off of each other, and just go to town, pass out and then sleep in the next day. Carpe diem and all that shit. We bum a fan from our friends, leave a car there, and we head off.
I had been dealing with a headache for a while. Nothing bad, but just a bit annoying, it felt kind of migraineyish so I told Tony I'd take a pill and by the time we found a room, I'd be fine. He said he was hungry, and we were on our way to find food, and a room to do our bidness.
As we're driving down Manchester, my headache within minutes, gets worse, yet I'm still undeterred. I do the diabetes math (which is nothing more than taking the time you ate last, and subtracting the time it is NOW to come up with the number of hours (Or in some case minutes) you ate last. Very scientific I know) and realize I haven't eaten in SEVEN hours, which is a NO NO for a diabetic. Plus my friend and I went for an hour walk around her neighborhood, which is even worse in a case like this.
Of course, it's ten oclock and everything in Whitey-ville is closed. That's one thing I've noticed about predominently "white" neighborhoods, lack of late night food options. We're driving, and driving, and at this point, we're looking for a Denny's or an Ihop. We found an Ihop that closed at TEN. TEN FUCKING PM and the MF'ing IHOP was closed. Here in nice mix of racial diversty-town, IHOP is like 24 hours. I guess only the blacks and the mexicans get a hankering for a Rooty Tuity fresh and fruity at 2 am? I don't know. But, I digress.
Finally, my stomach is churning. My head is pounding, and my face is covered in a freezing cold clammy sweat. Tony was trying to do some roadside feel ups, and I snapped "STOP!" which cooled him down right away. Out of desperation (and fear I was going to faint and crash, as I was driving and I had some scary black spots in my perephial vision) we pulled into Taco Bell, where I orderd two MexiMelts and a Mountain Dew, hoping the non diet soda would get sugar into my system quick. We pull into a parking lot, and I try to choke down my Meximelt. Not happening, brutha. My stomach was a MESS by this point. The funny thing was, I wasn't evenHUNGRY that whole 7 hours, so this was sudden and quite a surprise. Remember, just a few minutes before, I was copping crotch in our friends back yard.
I take my pill and I drive on, after trying to eat and getting half a Meximelt down my throat. I'm still sweating, although my head isn't as bad, and I'm really, really regretting that Meximelt and Dew combo I got churning in the works. The pill seems to have agravated the situation even more, and things... well things are a gurgling. I get a half mile down the road and I get that tingle in my jaw. I pull over quick on a side rode, and I throw open my door, and I puke. A little, but enough to aleviate some of the happenings in my body. I'm sitting there, just feeling the cool breeze on my face, close the door to the van, and just chill. Then, WHAM, before I could get the door all the way open I barf again. It gets on my arm, the door, the WINDOW. Everywhere. Tony is sympathy gagging. It was a mess.
He gets in teh driver side, and cleans up. I sit in the passenger side. He says "I think we should go home" and as he lurches the van around, I know I can not handle thirty minutes of driving. I tell him "Please, lets just get a hotel room, so I can lay down, I can't be in this car anymore than I have to"
After 15 excruciating minutes, we find a room, and I immediatly strip down and puke some more... and more.... and more. Tony, he is asleep while I puke my lungs up. I crawl into a nice big bed, and clean cool sheets, and there I am, sweating, pukey, with no clean clothes, no toothbrush or toothpaste, smelling of Taco Bell, barf and pee (since I pee when I barf).
Our hot night of sex turned into a puke fest for one. Maybe I should leave the horniness and the spontanaity to the younger sect.